


December 13th: What Is Christmas?

by LittleSweetCheeks



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alcohol, Death is vague, Gen, Kindness, Not Sure Who It Is, Scrooge Mood, Strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-02 08:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16783126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSweetCheeks/pseuds/LittleSweetCheeks
Summary: He'd spent a lot of years honing his hatred of this particular holiday.





	December 13th: What Is Christmas?

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [FA_ProfilersForChristmas2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/FA_ProfilersForChristmas2018) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> What Is Christmas  
> By Trans Siberian Orchestra 
> 
> Lyrics: https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/transsiberianorchestra/whatischristmas.html  
> you tube link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9tWsfQiTQE
> 
> I love the snow part of this, gives me a giggle.

The paltry bar was decorated for the ludicrous holiday, patrons gaily smiling their foolish tipsy smiles at the band on the shabby stage, decked out in laughable costumes surely meant to reflect some joyful sense of the season.

He wasn’t amused to have to share the space with them or their inane music.

All year. All year he chased the scum of the earth across the nation, and sometimes abroad, trying to stop them from doing the horrific, unnerving, ghastly things they were doing to others. Three-hundred-and-sixty-five days a year, and sometimes sixty-six because killers loved a lousy reason to be asshats and a leap day was as good a reason as any, he dug into the minds of men and women and children. After a while, after years…decades, of it, the light of hope that used to exist inside every person was long snuffed out.

People were bad.

Slamming his empty glass onto the bar, he gestured for the bartender to fill it up again, drawing an arched brow from the stranger that vanished when he waved a Grant at him. People were bad, but money spoke loudly, loud enough to get an old man served beyond a barkeep’s better judgement.

Glancing around of the top of his glass, he realized the half-baked group of musicians had stopped playing and the mindless crowd had stopped drinking as a young woman spoke at the microphone. He frankly did not give a damn what she had to say, so he curled his shoulders up round his ears and turned back to the bar.

=

Kelly couldn’t help but see, the pub was quaint and cozy, the single turned back in the sea of faces smiling up at her. Their band had been snowed in to DC, missing their flight out to their next gig, and the bartender, a friend from school, had offered the tiny stage to them for the evening. The patrons had been warm and welcoming. Except for the old man at the bar. She wasn’t sure she’d every seen someone frown so deeply, sagging down into himself like the entire weight of the world rested upon him.

Keeping an eye on the man, she spoke to the crowd about the places the band had travelled, their mission to bring some happiness and joy to the world in the only way they knew how. She told a story about how that kindness gets paid forward in turn, you be kind to them and they will be kind to others and out it goes, changing lives. Changing the world. Making the world better. She heard a deep harrumph at that and suspected it was the old man.

=

Tired of all the talk of kindness and cheer and _making the world better_ , such naivete, made the alcohol in his glass taste sour. Tossing enough bills on the bar to cover his drinks, he stood, sweeping out with his coat billowing grandly behind. As the bitter cold hit him, he tugged his scarf and coat tight against it. How could anyone stand such weather.

=

Kelly edged up to the bar, it had been an hour easily seen the old man had vanished into the night, but her curiosity simply would not let go. “James.” She caught her friend’s attention. “Can I ask a question?”

“You can ask.” His grin popped his dimples out.

She huffed a chuckle, rolling her eyes at him. “The old man who was here-“

“Ah.” He cut off. “Don’t worry about him, he’s a cranky old codger, not a puppy that just needs a warm meal and a snuggle, Kel. It’s better he left, he woulda ruined the mood of your little performance eventually.”

“So, you know him.”

James sighed. “Yes, I know who he is. He made sure I knew after some boys were in here one night hassling some girls. He stepped in and then got up in my face.”

Kelly arched a questioning brow and waited.

“Kelly, he’ll just ruin your mood, don’t go looking for trouble.”

“Please?”

=

The only positive, if he was forced to find one, to this awful weather was it kept the sidewalks clear. His pace wasn’t a stroll, his irritation at the whole holiday season radiated off him as he marched along in the darkness, daring even the lights to twinkle in his direction.

Storefronts were covered in shiny fake garland, shimmering annoyingly in reds, silvers, and greens as if, somehow, they’ve found forests made of plastic tinsel trees. Between the rows of garland and lights, the silly reindeer and sleighs, were stockings bulging with all assortment of gifts. What a stupid concept, hanging up old socks for everyone to see.

Crossing the street halfway up the block and frowning even deeper at a car that’d dared to traverse that road at that particular moment, he did his best to get away from the decorations, but the lights glowed through the darkness, rainbows of color lighting up the night. Trees everywhere, indoors and out, were covered in the things, like somehow, they’d become something worthy of giving attention too when all the rest of the year they were fine as boring old trees.

=

It’d taken Kelly till the end of the night, but she finally wore James down and he’d given her a name.

“He lives maybe two miles from here, usually walks here and home again.” He’d added when she’d showed concern about his state when he’d left. “He’s a bitter old man, so long as he’s not climbing into a car when he leaves, I don’t really care what happens to him.”

Kelly gasped. “That’s a horrible thing to say!”

“Well, he is easy to put out of my mind. He’s always an old scrooge.”

=

The irritatingly decorated storefronts finally gave way to a deserted park where a snow-covered path wrapped around a pond, benches were placed sporadically, and he knew if he sat on the right one, he wouldn’t be able to see any of the disease of Christmas spread over the blocks.

A disease. That’s exactly what it was. A plague on the senses of the normal people who could see the reality of the world, just like the people he chased were a disease, an infection to be wiped out. And like an infection, it lingered all year just waiting, biding its time, until it sprang back up to infect the world again. Surely reasonable people could find a permanent cure to it.

“Mister?” She called the name James had given her.

He lifted his chin from his chest, bringing his eyes up from the frozen ground to stare blankly at the woman who’d been speaking at the bar. “Who the hell are you?” And what the hell was it with this season that strangers felt the need to _talk to him._ “And how the hell do you know my name?” He had this gut-sinking feeling she was going to want to _cheer him up._

“I…” She hesitated, suddenly unsure, James’ parting words echoing in her mind. “My friend, James, he owns the bar…”

“Great, now I have to find another damned bar.”

“Sir, I…” She chewed her lip and studied her toes. “Honestly, I have no idea why I came looking for you.” She shook her head, making her blonde curls bounce around her shoulders from beneath her bright pink Santa hat. She caught his eyes as they quickly, almost imperceptibly, took in the movement. “I I’m sorry. I’ll go.” She turned, crunching along the path three steps before hitting a patch of ice and slipping backward with a shout, but the pain of hitting the ground never came. After a long moment, she felt brave enough to open her eyes. Looking up, the old man was glowering down at her, his arms around her, having broken her fall.

“Who the hell thinks all this damned snow is fun, it’s stupid and dangerous and can kill people. Even that damned crunching is grating. You probably wouldn’t have fallen if you’d been wearing sensible shoes, those five-inch platform wedges are going to make you break something vital, you know.” With that, he stood her on her feet and returned to his seat.

Kelly wasn’t sure how to respond.

“You’re still here.”

His snapped words brought her out of her daze. “I’m sorry.” She repeated.

“Great, another person who apologizes for everything, do you apologize for being alive as well?”

The way his face curled into the snarl, one side of his lip curling as one eye squinted more than the other. “N-no, Sir.”

He didn’t comment further, didn’t move, didn’t even blink.

Unnerved, Kelly turned to walk away as fast as she could without hurting herself. James had been right, it hadn’t been worth the worry.

“What’s your name?”

She wasn’t even sure he’d spoken at first until he repeated it. Turning slowly, she swallowed. “Kelly, Sir. Kelly Shoemaker.”

His eyes narrowed. “And how old are you, Kelly?”

“Twenty as of last month… Sir.” She wasn’t sure why she’d answered; alarm bells were going off in her head to just shut up and go back to the bar. But there was something in his eyes that kept her rooted to the spot.

“And you’re wandering the city on a night like this alone?”

“James knew where I was headed, he’ll come looking for me soon enough.”

“Soon enough is too long, you could be dead by then.”

She swallowed hard at the way he said it. “Sir.” She took a step backward, keenly aware now of how ill-dressed she was for the weather. But he didn’t move from the bench.

“Any family, Kelly? Anyone who would miss you?”

She took another step back. “No, Sir. My mother never told me who my father was and then she died.” Her voice broke.

“Six years ago, today, tonight actually.” He sounded confident. “Murdered by someone who was never caught.”

Kelly felt her blood run cold. It hadn’t been publicized, so how did this old man know about it. “How’d you know that?”

He didn’t answer right away, but he turned his hard gaze from her and back to the frozen pond. It was the murder that had soured Christmas for him, and for a lot of other people as well.

She didn’t dare step closer but asked again. “How do you know about my mother?”

“I can’t answer that.” He glanced her way. “I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re worried about. I never killed a person who wasn’t deserving.” It slipped out before he thought about it. “I hate Christmas.” He frowned harder.

“I… I try really hard not to. She loved Christmas and so I make sure when I got to Mass on nights like tonight, I always light a candle for her.”

“Mass?”

“She took me almost every week and Christmas, that was her favorite. The lights, the trees, the…everything.”

“Oh.”

“When I was little, she taught me to light candles for those people that no one else missed, the lost souls of the world. She said even if we didn’t know their names, that their spirits would still feel that we were thinking about them and would rest easier.”

 _Sounds like her_ , he thought to himself. “A child lighting candles…” He spoke. “Trying to burn down a perfectly good church.”

Kelly glanced around. “I guess, I guess maybe I came looking for you because I know what it’s like to hate Christmas and all the things that go with it. Only last year did I put up a tree, or lights, I couldn’t do it before.”

Silence lapsed between them, only the sound of the falling snow making any noise. “I don’t hate Christmas.” He finally responded after some thought. “I just… I spent so much of my life seeing the bad in every person, it’s hard to ever see the good now. I spent too many decades focused on the bad.”

“Not long before she…died… Mom told me it was important to be a beacon of goodness in the world.”

His lips twitched, the muscles aching at the forgotten movement like his body had forgotten how to smile. “She was that.”

Kelly shuffled some snow around with the toe of her shoe. “I’m sorry for disrupting your evening, Sir.” She turned and began to walk away.

She was at the edge of the park before his voice filtered across the barren space. “Kelly.”

She stopped, glancing over her shoulder.

“When… When you speak to your mother tonight, tell her an old man said he was sorry, and he promises to do better. He’d just forgotten for a while.” As the last words faded from his lips, thick flakes of fresh snow began to fall from the sky, he watched the young woman turn her face to the sky, an angelic smile softly crossing her face.

“She knows. And she forgives you.” Without another word, Kelly resumed her trek back to the bar, leaving the old man in silence.

He turned his own face to the heavens, wondering where the years had all gone while he’d been busy being angry. It was peaceful, really, beautiful and calming sitting in this place, surrounded by this beauty. He let his eyes fall closed.

The moment was broken as a car cruised by behind him, blaring holidays songs and making the ground almost shake, disrupting his peace.

“Damned Christmas.” He bit out, a deep frown returning.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know I never actually say who he is, nope, not gonna tell.


End file.
